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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27698633">Scar</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalKnix/pseuds/CrystalKnix'>CrystalKnix</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, Implied fundywastaken, M/M, Major Character Death for Wilbur and Jschlatt, Wilbur-centric, see I don't just write angst, well they're already dead in this fic so</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 03:35:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,081</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27698633</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalKnix/pseuds/CrystalKnix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s home, but his whole world has changed... and he doesn’t understand why.</p><p>Wilbur looks at a world that he knows he used to belong to, and sees nothing but the misery he had left in his wake.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexis | Quackity &amp; Wilbur Soot, Dave | Technoblade &amp; Wilbur Soot, Eret &amp; Wilbur Soot, Floris | Fundy &amp; Wilbur Soot, Jschlatt &amp; Wilbur Soot, Niki | Nihachu &amp; Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot &amp; Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>143</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Scar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>He’s home, but his whole world has changed... and he doesn’t understand why.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He catches Eret <s><em>he doesn’t remember them that much, but Tubbo was kind enough to introduce him to everyone he’s forgotten</em></s> from the corner of his vision, a crown of blue and gold flowers tangled upon their hair, and he thinks, <em>“that isn’t right, is it?”</em> There were small marks upon his skin, the remnants of a war he couldn’t quite remember. He doesn’t understand why Eret refuses to meet his eyes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He takes a stroll with Niki, the soft and ethereal moonlight illuminating their path through the broken ruins of a nation. He feels colder than he usually does, Niki’s warmth a world away. The smile on her face is weary, exhaustion in her eyes, and he thinks, <em>“did the war do that?”</em> She looks like she hasn’t slept in a month. He doesn’t understand why she holds back her tears each time their eyes meet.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He peers up at Techno, his older brother’s blood red eyes cutting through his ghostly form. His fists are clenched at his side, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He sees the seething anger and fury within his brother’s usual nonchalant stance and thinks, <em>“is he mad at me?”</em> The last time he’s seen his brother this angry was when they were kids. He doesn’t understand what he’s done to deserve it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He listens to Quackity’s <em><s>his mind a mess of emotions at the mention of this particular name</s></em> incoherent rambles. He stares as Quackity screams at a desecrated grave, eyes the size of pinpricks as thoughts of chaos and revolution slipped past his tongue, and he thinks, <em>“who are you grieving?”</em> He doesn’t like the glint of insanity in Quackity’s eyes. He doesn’t understand why, but he hates it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He jumps as Phil’s arms wrap around his form, a twinge of resentment that he could never hold his father the same way ever again. He sees his father’s wings - clipped and useless in this world - and feels a seething anger that quickly disappears. He sees his father, and thinks, <em>“who did this to you?” </em>He trembles in his father’s familiar hold. He doesn’t understand why Phil looks at him with guilt and devastation. <em><s>His father had done him a favour for why else would he remember his fatal end?</s></em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He has a lovely chat with Tubbo, his bright plans a sweet symphony of a new era. The smile has not faded from his younger brother's face, but he gazes at the multitude of burn marks on his brother's skin and shudders, the muddled memory of bright flashes of color resonating in his mind. Explosions begin to ring in his ears and he thinks, <em>"what happened?" </em>He wonders if he tried to save his brother from this fate. He doesn't understand how Tubbo could still bring himself to smile.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He follows after Fundy, terror rising from his chest as he takes in the burn marks that coat his son's hands. He does not miss the way Fundy runs away from him, does not miss the anguish and hate in his son's eyes each time they spoke. He follows, wishing he could hold his son in his arms and he thinks, "When did you get so big?" He trails after his son and almost chokes at the silence. He doesn't understand why Fundy can't look at him in the eyes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tommy... Tommy always chooses to run away, not sparing him a single glance as he quickly disappears around a corner. There’s a bubbling anger in the way Tommy throws himself into rebuilding New L’Manburg, an anger he fears is his fault, and he thinks, <em>“What did I do to you Tommy?”</em> He notices the blank look on his brother’s face each time the soft tune of a disc is played. He doesn’t understand why he ever allowed Tommy into a war he was too young for.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Wilbur knows he is not the only remnant of this nation’s bloody past. Though fleeting and haunting, he swears he could see ghostly visions of a baby blue sweater in the distant forest. He knows that sweater, fond memories of adventures and a companion riddled with jokes swirling to the front of his mind. He tries to find him, but he can’t and he thinks, <em>“Why are you avoiding me, Schlatt?”</em> He doesn’t understand why his best friend hides from him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The scars remain, but perhaps one day... they’ll be okay.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It starts slowly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>----------</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Hey, Wil— Ghostbur.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Oh, hello Eret!”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“I...”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“I know I don’t remember you, but I’d like to get to know you again. No matter what you did before... no matter what I did before... okay?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Eret pauses, “Okay.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>----------</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Wil— Ghostbur.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Hm? Yes, Niki?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Promise... promise me you’ll still be here in the morning. I don’t think I can stay up at night anymore.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“You have my word, Niki. I’ll still be here, okay?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Niki laughs, “Okay.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>----------</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Wilbur.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Techno, where have you been?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Oh. You know, anarchy waits for no man.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Just don’t try to wreck the place again, okay?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Techno chuckles. “Okay.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>----------</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“So, you saw that, huh?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Quackity, I don’t know why—“</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Just... I miss him. As much as I don’t want to.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“You’re mourning and that’s alright, okay?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Quackity sniffles, “Okay.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>----------</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Son.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Hey, dad.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“So... Chinese lanterns, huh?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“We made them together, remember? Want to help?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Phil sighs, “Okay.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>----------</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Ghostbur, I’m not sure I can do this.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Tubbo, listen to me—“</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“What if I make a mistake—”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Tubbo. You’re going to be a great president. I don’t doubt that for a second.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Tubbo nods, “Okay.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>----------</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“D-dad... Will you walk me down the aisle?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Oh, Fundy! Of course I will.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“R-really? After everything I—”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“You’re my son, Fundy. I love you.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Fundy cries, “Okay.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>----------</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Hey, Ghostbur.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Tommy.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“I miss you, big man. I’m sorry that—”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“No, Tommy. You did everything you could. You shouldn’t apologize to me.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Tommy smiles, “Okay.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>---------- </em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Schlatt.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“You shouldn’t be here, Wilbur.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“What happened, Schlatt?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Just... Stay the hell away from me Wilbur.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“I don’t remember anything.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Oh boo hoo, you think I care?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“What happened to us, Schlatt?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“...”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Schlatt.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“What the hell do you want now, Wilbur?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“I want us to be okay.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“That isn’t possible.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“We can make it possible.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“You should hate me.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“I should.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Then why are you still here?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Because you’re my best friend.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“...”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“I’d like to be friends again... we can try again... okay?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Schlatt gives in, “Okay.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>---------- </em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They’ll be okay.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! Hope you guys enjoyed that, hopefully it was okay as my friend commented this when I asked him to read it:</p><p>Him: I hate you. The heart - that I didn’t know I had - hurts.</p><p>And my response was: Just broke a heartless man's heart. Feeling good.</p><p>Anyway, hope you guys liked it and this will be my last fic in a while since school is dragging me back to its depths. So, bye bye! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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